


Istari

by Glorfindel



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Humor, Humour, M/M, Romance, Sarcasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-09 23:04:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glorfindel/pseuds/Glorfindel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Manwe forms the Istari and sends them over the sea, from Valinor to Middle-earth. He expects them to aid in the fight against Sauron and bring the errant Maia back to Valinor, so the Valar can kick his ass. The Istari do not want to go, except Saruman who, apparently, was once Mairon's sex slave.</p><p>Why is Radaghast sitting at the top of the ship's mast talking to an albatross?</p><p>How does Olorin arrive at the name Gandalf the Grey? </p><p>Will Cirdan wait forever or will he one day know happiness?  Will Gandalf take good care of his ring?</p><p>Just how will the five wizards managed on the voyage over, and why does Saruman think he can order them about when he is the butt of the other Istari's jokes?</p><p>Read on and find out!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Order of the Istari

**Author's Note:**

> Beta's by Keiliss - thank you :D
> 
> Disclaimer: An affectionate tribute to Tolkien. No rights are being claimed and no money is being made or sought after. 
> 
> Told from Gandalf's POV

Summary: Manwe announces to the wizard their new mission

 

 

  
  
  
Gandalf’s POV  
  
  
  
Day 1  
  
  
  
Five of us stood before Lord Manwë. Saruman stood to my right and on my left was Radaghast. Next to him was Alatar, while Pallando stood at the end.  
  
  
  
“Are we in trouble again?” Radaghast whispered.  
  
  
  
I shrugged. “Even if we have not done anything, Manwë will say we did.”  
  
  
  
Talk of Melkor’s bane. Manwë walked in, glared at us and slammed his staff on the table. None of us jumped because he did it all the time. He looked somewhat miffed at our lack of reaction but said nothing. On the wall hung a large, blank sheet of paper. Manwë swiftly drew a sizeable picture of Middle-earth. He turned to face us.  
  
  
  
“Right, you lot, the inhabitants of Middle-earth need our help.” He indicated the chart, so we would know what a drawing of Middle-earth looked like. “I can’t be bothered to go into the reasons why and it does not matter anyway; all of you are going to help subdue Mairon, whether you like it or not. He is up to his old tricks again. Lord Lórien has put together a presentation that should answer all your questions and he will arrive any moment.”  
  
  
  
“Why do I have to go to Middle-earth?” I asked, more petulantly than I intended. “I thought I was your favourite? I have just got back from a journey that you sent me on. My feet ache; I could sleep for a month and, to be honest, Sauron terrifies me. He wasn’t very nice when he lived here and you must remember how we all breathed a sigh of relief when he went to Middle-earth.”  
  
  
  
“Scaredy cat custard. You’re made of mustard,” Saruman taunted. It was well known that Saruman had admired Mairon when he still lived here. We used to make jokes about him being his sex slave and laugh as he lost his temper. It was so easy; Saruman had no sense of humour at all.  
  
  
  
The others in the line tittered. Manwë roared at us to be quiet. We could have heard a pin drop.  
  
  
  
“Saruman, indulge in one more childish rhyming insult and you will cease to be head of the Order of the Istari,” Manwë barked.  
  
  
  
“What is the Order of the Istari?” Alatar asked. “How have I never heard of it?”  
  
  
  
“That is the name of your travelling party. I thought of it myself and it describes very well who you are,” Manwë replied, looking very satisfied with himself.  
  
  
  
“Who made Saruman head?” Pallando asked. “That’s really going to work, isn’t it? I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.”  
  
  
  
“Lord Manwë put me in charge; he knows a superior Maia when he sees one,” Saruman said with a smirk.  
  
  
  
I shook my head in dismay. “You put Sauron’s sex slave in charge?”  
  
  
  
“I was never Sauron’s sex slave,” Saruman screeched. “How dare you!” His happy mood did not last long.  
  
  
  
“Yes you were,” Alatar said. “When he still lived here you were always in his bed.”  
  
  
  
Saruman literally exploded with rage while we stood grinning for all we were worth. Even Manwë found it funny.  
  
  
  
“I will turn you into a frog,” Saruman shrieked at me. “You started it all.”  
  
  
  
“You will not succeed, Saruman,” Manwë chuckled. “Olorin is far more gifted and much wiser than you. I wonder why you thought you would be the most powerful of the Istari just because you are their leader?”  
  
  
  
“You hate me as well,” Saruman accused.  
  
  
  
“I bet that when we get to Middle-earth none of us want to go around with you,” Alatar said, rubbing salt into Saruman’s already massive insecurities. “You will be Saruman-no-mates.”  
  
  
  
“Just like you are here,” Pallando quipped.  
  
  
  
“Radaghast is to be my friend in Middle-earth,” Saruman replied smugly. “The only one without a friend will be Olorin.”  
  
  
  
“Surely I would be your friend now if that was going to happen,” Radaghast said derisively, a faintly sardonic smile playing on his lips.  
  
  
  
“We are Olorin’s friends, not yours,” Pallando said. Alatar nodded his head in agreement.  
  
  
  
“That’s right,” Radaghast agreed.  
  
  
  
“You are defeated already, Saruman,” Manwë chuckled. “Never mind, you are not going there to be companions for each other but to help the races of Middle-earth overthrow Mairon. Bring him back here so I can thrash his arse.”  
  
  
  
“Of course, Lord Manwë,” Saruman replied and bowed. He shot up quickly. “Who made that fart noise?”  
  
  
  
We fell about laughing. Lórien walked into the room and asked why we were being so loud.  
  
  
  
“Saruman doesn’t like being called Mairon’s sex slave,” Manwë answered. “I must say, I haven’t laughed so much since Tulkas was nearly raped by a frisky ent.”  
  
  
  
Never one to lose an opportunity to add to the mirth, Lórien exclaimed that he had always been under the impression that Saruman was once Mairon’s sex slave. Of course, Saruman lost his temper even more with us because he dared not direct his anger at a Vala. Much later I would consider that moment one of my happier memories of him.  
  
  
  
Lórien informed us that a ship, captained by an elf named Círdan, was due to arrive late that night from Middle-earth and we would sail the very next day. We were to assume the guise of elderly men before reaching the shores of the new land.  
  
  
  
After the meeting Saruman stormed out of the room, hoping to catch Manwë so he could complain about our behaviour. I can only assume that he was unsuccessful because he sulked for the rest of the day.  
  
  
  
“Was Saruman really Mairon’s sex slave?” Pallando asked Alatar as we filed out of the room.  
  
  
  
Alatar shrugged. “No idea, but it sounded good.”  
  
  
  
How we laughed.  
  


 

 


	2. Farewell to Valinor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Istari board the ship bound for Middle-earth. Gandalf strikes up a friendship with Cirdan.

.

 

 

Day 2

 

The next morning a white ship bearing the figurehead of a swan about to take flight drew up at the Alqualondë dock. A pang of loss assailed my being. I had not yet left the blessed realm, but I knew that once I was on the ship my feet might never tread its hallowed ground again, not in this life anyway.

 

“Our lives will be changed forever,” Alatar said as he sat beside me. “I do not know if I will ever see this land again and my heart grieves because of it.”

 

“As does mine.”

 

“Regardless of what Manwë has ordered, Pallando and I will travel together. Neither of us would be bereft of company in such a strange and dark land. We will head for Khand and stir up rebellion there.”

 

“Radaghast and I will travel to the forests. He will make contact with the animals and insects while I will befriend the elves. I hope that we see each other from time to time, if only to ensure our safety in dark times, and there will be times that are dark. These are the last moments of light and we should make the most of them.”

 

Overhead the clear, blue sky was punctuated by the flocks of gulls, diving low and soaring up high as they screeched with joy. Anor’s golden beams chased away the last vestiges of the early morning mist. We could hear the ship creaking and the voices of the elves as they let the gangplank down for us to embark. The seawater lapped lazily against the side of the dock and I saved the sound in my mind just in case I never was able to hear it again.

 

“Come on,” Saruman said. “Get on the ship. I am in charge. You have to do as I say.”

 

“You should lead by example and get on the ship first,” Alatar replied. “The gangplank doesn’t look too safe. I hope you do not fall.” I would miss my friend’s sarcasm.

 

Saruman stormed up the gangplank while we watched. “Come along,” he called to us.

 

“Let’s throw him overboard after the halfway mark so a sea monster eats him,” Pallando suggested, his face serious.

 

“Yes, lets,” I agreed, fully intending to help Pallando if the opportunity arose. How bad could it be? We would return to Valinor and tell Lord Manwë that Saruman had buggered up his plan.

 

“It would spit him out,” Radaghast remarked. “Even sea monsters have standards.”

 

I was the last one to board the ship. “Farwell, sweet Valinor,” I said softly as I trudged unwillingly up the gangway.

 

We were greeted by Círdan himself, who seemed in awe of us and said several times that it was an honour to carry such esteemed guests on his ship. He served a glass of wine to each of us; Saruman insisted that he be served first because he was the leader of the Order of the Istari. Círdan seemed outwardly impressed and graciously offered the first glass to Mairon’s presumed former sex slave.

 

Manwë boarded the ship to say farewell and gave what he thought was a rousing pep talk.

 

“Indeed, I wish I was going with you,” he said.

 

“Well why don’t you?” I asked, my face set as stone.

 

“How amusing,” Manwë chuckled. “I will miss your little witticisms, Olorin.”

 

“I could always stay,” I offered.

 

“Well, I have to go now,” Manwë said hurriedly. “Good luck to you all and hurry back with Sauron.”

 

We glared at him as he disembarked. Saruman was the only one to say goodbye.

 

“At least you tried,” Radaghast sympathised.

 

The sails unfurled and the winds caught them. Gently we edged away from the dock, away from our home, away from our life. We watched until we could see the land no more and then we turned away.

 

“What do we do now?” Radaghast said, more as a statement than a question.

 

“Well I am going to my cabin and I am going to study,” Saruman informed us. “I suggest you do the same.” He swept off looking as imperious as he could.

 

“Happily, one does not have to follow suggestions,” Radaghast remarked. “I think I will climb up to the cross beam and talk to that albatross that keeps circling the ship.”

 

“Good idea,” Círdan said with a smile.

 

“Pallando and I are going to play cards in my cabin,” Alatar said to Círdan and me. “You can join us if you like.”

 

“Thank you, but I think I will sit here and enjoy the sea air.” The air felt warm and it seemed a waste to sit in a dark cabin.

 

“I would sit with you, if you do not mind,” Círdan said. “We can share another glass of wine perhaps?”

 

“I am making the most of being able to see the sea,” I said to Círdan as he poured wine into our glasses.

 

“I would imagine that you are storing the memories for the times when you feel bereft of all you hold dear. I get the impression that you miss your home already.”

 

“I do indeed,” I replied.

 

“Then I would offer you this, when you are in Mithlond you will be my guest. Not just when we land, but also any time you care to visit.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

High up on the crossbar of the main beam, the albatross and Radaghast seemed deep in conversation.

 

“It is a marvel to me that a conversation can be had with a bird,” Círdan mused.

 

“Radaghast is particularly gifted and can communicate with all fauna. He is a good friend to all animals.”

 

“Tell me about Alatar and Pallando?”

 

“They hide exceptional talent behind a frivolous exterior. Both are good to have on your side where there is trouble.”

 

“Saruman?”

 

“If you have nothing good to say then you should say nothing at all. Therefore, I have no answer for you.”

 

“You have said more by refusing to say anything,” Círdan smiled.

 

We talked some more until the cabin boy delivered a message from the cook. Círdan reluctantly excused himself and I was left alone.

 

 

 


	3. Our Last Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cirdan tells Olorin the full extent of the problems that Sauron has caused in Middle-earth and what the help of the Istari means to them.

Day 3

 

“I have never seen beings as beautiful as you and your fellow Istari,” Círdan said as he joined me on deck. I sat on a rope coil, staring out to sea. “My crew are bewitched by your appearances, as indeed I am.” His face flushed slightly and he laughed.

 

I also laughed. “We are to assume the guises of old men before we arrive. Saruman ordered that we do so this morning. We have decided not to do it until the last day of our voyage, purely because it will drive him to distraction.”

 

“Is there much friction between you and Saruman?”

 

“There is and there always will be,” I replied. “However, our mission means that each of us will have to accommodate the other. If we do not then Sauron will have already won. This might be the making of Saruman, or it all might end horribly.”

 

“Let us be positive,” Círdan sighed. “You are our last hope. We are already a dwindling race. There are many elves still living in Middle-earth but the number grows steadily less each year, not by much but enough to make a difference after a hundred years of so.” I felt his eyes blue eyes looking deep into me. “I do not know if any of you appreciate just how much we need help or how grateful we will be for it. It must be hard to gauge a threat when not living with it.”

 

“We were told that the races of Middle-earth need help against Sauron and that we are to aid in overthrowing him.” I thought back to Lórien’s lecture and considered that we had not been told enough. The fact that we had to leave straightaway meant the situation was urgent but none of us knew by how much it was so.

 

“Every free being not corrupted by the evil one will be forever in your debt, if we can overcome him. His cloud of evil spreads ever further, engulfing the innocent, tainting the land and fouling the waters. We are in a desperate position.”

 

“Lord Lórien told us the situation was desperate, but I do not think that any of us appreciated the full extent.” I shook my head. “We need to inform the others of this, especially Saruman, if he is to be an effective leader.”

 

I like Círdan; he has a gravitas that our own leader lacks. I can talk to him about the perils ahead and he understands. His conversation is intelligent and well considered. There is none of the petty backbiting that a certain member of our party is only too ready to deliver. I wonder if Saruman will ever have a full appreciation of just how dangerous Sauron now is. I doubt it.

 

Later, in the afternoon, I called a meeting of the Istari with Círdan as our guest. We sat at a table in Saruman’s cabin while Círdan explained in full detail Sauron’s affect upon the peoples and lands of Middle-earth.

 

Saruman surprised us all. He sat and listened without sniping or trying to ridicule. He directed that we should spread out, under cover, and assess the situation before meeting up to formulate a plan of action. We were astonished; his petty demeanour had been replaced with a seriousness that he had always lacked before. I wondered what it must mean. No doubt I would never find out, but I was not too concerned. Personally, I thought Lord Manwë must have visited Saruman; I cannot think he would have achieved such gravity on his own.


	4. The Kiss.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olorin falls for Cirdan.

“Your leader revealed a side to his personality that I suspect was unknown to you all,” Círdan said. He smiled as he sat beside me. “I have a bottle of wine for us.”

 

We sat in his cabin, just the two of us. Alatar and Pallando were sunbathing on the deck, while Radaghast sat on the crossbar of the main beam surrounded by gulls who chattered excitedly while he listened. I had no idea where Saruman might be. I imagined him in his cabin writing a letter to Sauron, telling him that he was visiting Middle-earth and perhaps they could meet up for ‘drinkies and indulge in shared interests’. The thought made me smile. What I would not give to see Saruman tied to a bed with Sauron, a whip in his hand, giving him a cruel and knowing smile. Actually, there was quite a lot I would not give but the thought amused me all the same.

 

“I suspect Saruman has been influenced in some way by Lord Manwë,” I shrugged.

 

“It must be. I doubt the evil one’s reach extends over the sea,” Círdan said with a shrug.

 

“Never underestimate him.”

 

Círdan handed a glass of wine to me and poured a glass full for himself.

 

“I never do. I have seen those affected by his cruelties. I feel the black shadow creeping closer over the land, engulfing all that is good and true.”

 

“As we near to Middle-earth I feel it too,” I all but whispered. “I give you my word that I will do my utmost to defeat the evil one. Victory will be long in coming because he has grown strong; perhaps stronger than the Valar realise, but with our help you may one day see a land that is free once more. Even if we are unsuccessful, we will make it so hard for him to achieve victory that he will despair. Those who despair set their sights lower and often they walk away.”

 

“He will not walk away,” Círdan said softly.

 

“I promise you that I will be a thorn in his side. None of us are as powerful as he, but the lord of all evil is not unbeatable.”

 

“The peoples of Middle-earth are tired and weary,” Círdan replied, saying more with inflection than I am sure he intended. He seemed to be losing hope, in spite of the help that we represented. I considered that the threat from Sauron must be overwhelming for such a powerful elf to lose heart. Lórien had told us about Círdan’s history and we knew that the Valar held him in the highest regard. For one so noble and steadfast the situation must be desperate indeed for him to think that Sauron could not be countered.

 

We sat on a red, quilted, velvet sofa that faced a set of small panelled windows. If I looked out of them I could see behind the ship, where we had sailed from. In that direction lay Valinor and we moved ever further away from it.

 

My hand rested on Círdan’s shoulders, over the long, dirty-blond braid, fixed with a skull and crossbones clip. Stray strands fell across his suntanned cheek. My hand brushed them away and I kissed skin underneath, feeling the need to show him that he was not alone. Círdan sighed and looked at me with a wan smile. He carried the weight of the all the free races of Middle-earth upon his shoulders as well as my hand. He was an elf who had lived for many years and seen many things. The whole panorama of history reflected in his eyes and much of it was of grief. He wore a brave face, but inside he feared for everyone.

 

“I wish I could reassure you. I wish I could tell you that everything will be all right. There is nothing that my heart would value more than to see joy light up your eyes and know that dread had been cast from your mind forever more. The battle will be long and hard. All of us will know despair and suffering. Every single one of us will know grief. Guard your heart carefully, my friend, because in the coming times it may be all you have left.”

 

“I have lost so much already,” Círdan replied softly. “All I have is my heart. I would drive a dagger through it rather than let the evil one possess it.”

 

The ring on Círdan’s hand glowed brightly. We both looked at it.

 

“Her name is Narya, the Ring of Fire,” Círdan mused. “Gil-Galad gave it to me. I was to keep it safe for him.” Círdan looked at the ruby sitting atop the gold ring. “He will never wear it again.”

 

“A beautiful ring indeed,” I said.

 

Círdan smiled. “I have never seen her glow that brightly. Perhaps it is a good omen for us all?”

 

“I would like to think so,” I replied with a broad smile. It was heartening to see that my smile was met with one of his own.

 

We sat drinking a while longer, sitting together and talking of inconsequential things, laughing at small things and carefully avoiding that which would lower our mood. The wind was building up and the ship rolled in the waves. The air felt cold as if Anor had decided to abandon the journey and stay behind.

 

“We have left Valinor waters,” Círdan mused.

 

He looked so beautiful, yet the cares of Middle-earth rested on his brow. I kissed above his eyes and he laughed softly. My fingers stroked through the hair on his face. Lord Lórien had told us that Círdan had a beard, something that Saruman found most amusing, but here I was, feeling the soft silkiness. My lips brushed against his and I held him close.

 

“You must truly be the finest of all the elves,” I whispered in his ear, even though there was no one to hear.

 

“You must be the finest of all the Maiar,” Círdan replied softly.

 

“I am an Istari,” I said and inhaled his sea fresh scent intermingled with the nuances of tar and leather.

 

“You are indeed an Istari, but you are also a Maiar,” Círdan replied. “I can see it in your eyes. I have never seen a Maia before, but you are more than you seem. I think I am right.” I nodded. Círdan smiled as if filled with relief. “Sauron will not find it so easy to defeat a Maia; already my heart feels lighter.”

 

A turning point had been reached. Círdan had renewed hope and I had made a firm friend. It might be that we did not see each other for years after reaching the shores of the new land, but I knew that when our paths did cross that it would always be an occasion for joy.


	5. The Ring of Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cirdan gives Olorin a valuable gift.

Day 5

 

 

“Olorin, why have you not changed into your new guise?” Saruman asked. “I am the leader of the Istari and you have to do as I say.”

 

It was hard to suppress my laughter. Saruman wore a long white robe and his hair had changed from black to white. His gnarly fingers did not look as old as the skin on his face, which was lined with wrinkles and hanging in folds.

 

“Are only your hands and face old looking?”I asked, trying to imagine his body covered with wrinkly, pendulous skin.

 

“Yes of course, fool!” he barked.

 

With raised eyebrows and a large smirk I walked away, not deigning to reply. He could wait for me to change.

 

On the way to the deck I passed Alatar who told me that Saruman had ordered him to change into his disguise and he had refused, just because it amused him to do so. Pallando had also refused because he enjoys annoying Saruman as well, whereas Radaghast was so annoyed with Saruman’s posturing that he had climbed up the mast and spent the night in the crow’s nest. At present he was refusing to come down until he received an apology.

 

Once I reached the deck I walked over to my favourite rope coil and sat down. The air was fresh and clear. During the night the ship was buffeted by a storm, to the point that I wondered if I should calm the waves. I decided not to for two reasons: Saruman was enjoying an extended period of seasickness, therefore amusing us all, and any intervention on my part would have revealed that I was far more powerful than the crew suspected.

 

Círdan walked onto the deck and made his way over to me.

 

“Thank you,” he said as I moved over to let him sit down beside me.

 

“For what?”

 

“For giving me hope where it was all but lost.” Círdan smiled, the happiness lit up his eyes. “For helping me to laugh again.”

 

“There is nothing finer than laughter,” I said fondly.

 

“Love is finer than laughter, my friend,” Círdan replied. He pulled me closer and kissed my cheek.

 

“You know, when I change into an old man, I am going to have a beard just like yours to remind me of our happy time together. When I am lonely, frightened and desperate, I can touch it and imagine that you are beside me. At times like that, my memories of you will be a great comfort during those times of hardship.”

 

“Then let us pray to the Valar that you never experience such hard times,” Círdan said and smiled before looking out to sea. “Where will you head for, first of all?”

 

“I will befriend as many of the free races that I can and aid them with counsel and practical help. We are not here to lead or to force any into action, indeed that would make us as bad as the enemy. So long as I can give hope to those who need it, we can resist the darkness. I will head inland with Radaghast; he will befriend the animals and trees because they too will play a part in suppressing the menace.”

 

“How is Saruman the leader when you are so much wiser than he?”

 

“I have no love of power or of praise. That is more his preserve than mine.”

 

The seagulls screeched and flew around in wide circles. Up high, Radaghast was descending from the crow’s nest. One of the crew shouted that he could see land. Círdan and I looked at one another. Now was the end and there was no pretending. The brief sojourn before my life was to irrevocably change was now over.

 

Saruman stormed onto the deck and shouted to Radaghast to make haste. Alatar and Pallando were nowhere to be seen

 

“We do not have much time,” Círdan said urgently. He pulled Narya from his finger. “Take now this ring, for your labours and cares will be heavy, but in all it will support you and defend you from weariness. For this is the Ring of Fire, and herewith, maybe, you shall rekindle hearts to the valour of old in a world that grows chill.”

 

Círdan put Narya on my finger. It felt right, as though it was always meant to be there.

 

“Thank you,” I said, overwhelmed at receiving such a precious gift. There was nothing more I could say.

 

Saruman marched over shouting loudly that Radaghast was likely to fall and our efforts would come to nothing. Instinctively I hid the ring from his gaze.

 

“You have not changed into your disguise yet,” be barked. “I will not allow disobedience.”

 

“As if you have any choice,” I replied, glaring at him, daring him to say another word.

 

We watched as he stormed away.

 

“I have to change into my new guise, but I promise you that when we meet again, and if we are without anyone near, you alone of all the elves will see me in my true form.”

 

My hair gradually changed from black to grey and my appearance assumed that of an old man, although I did not indulge in so many folds of skin or wrinkles as Saruman did. My face sprouted a long grey beard, it felt as though it had always been there; the silky texture was the same as Círdan’s. My grey robe hid my perfect Maia body; there was only so much change into oldness that I could tolerate.

 

Círdan smiled. “You are still handsome.”

 

“I doubt it,” I laughed.

 

“Elves see beyond appearance,” Círdan said, still smiling. “You will always be the handsome Olorin to me. What will you call yourself now?”

 

“I thought Gandalf the Grey would be a catchy moniker. My robe is grey after all, and so is my hat.”

 

We laughed. I knew I looked ridiculous.

 

“What does Gandalf mean?”

 

I shrugged and we laughed again.

 

An hour later I stood waiting to disembark. I sighed as I leant on my staff.

 

“Are you ready?” Radaghast asked beside me.

 

“I suppose so,” I murmured.

 

Saruman disembarked first, followed by Alatar and Pallando. Radaghast went before me and then it was my turn.

 

Círdan stood beside me. “Saruman asked me for Narya and I refused him. He is not in the best of moods.”

 

“I already know to hide it from him,” I replied softly.

 

“I fear for his future.”

 

“So do I.”

 

“Come on, Gandalf,” Saruman called from the dock. “You are only delaying the inevitable.”

 

“Olorin, we may never meet again. Know that I have fallen in love with you and my heart grieves that I will not see you for many a year, if ever.”

 

“That is why you gave me Narya. My friend, I have nothing for you in return except to tell you that I have fallen in love with you too. When all seems lost the memory of you and knowing that you love me will give light to the darkest of times.”

 

We shared a chaste kiss on the lips before disembarking.

 

“Farewell, dear friend,” I said softly.

 

“Farewell,” Círdan replied. “The Valar be with you.” He squeezed my hand and looked into my eyes. “Come back soon.”

 

We disembarked.

 

It was decided that the Istari would set off together. I walked beside Radaghast. Alatar and Pallando walked together and Saruman was alone walking before us.

 

“You have another reason to succeed,” Radaghast said softly. “He is a good elf, make sure you do.”

 

I looked around and saw Círdan standing alone, watching us from afar. I raised my hand and waved in huge semicircles from side to side. I fancy that he smiled. He waved back and turned away.

 

I would be back. One day, when all was finished, I would see Círdan again, such was my resolve. Until then I had a job to do. When all was finished and everyone was free that would be the time for jollity, laughter and love. We headed inland with the noise of the gulls and the sea breeze behind us, walking away from all that we loved and held dear so that we could aid others in their fight to enjoy the freedoms that we took for granted. My heart was heavy but it was the right thing to do, and so we carried on.


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manwe announces to the wizard their new mission. Told from Gandalf's POV

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Epilogue - 29th September 3021

 

The carriage juddered as we rode over the cobblestones leading to the dock. Bilbo and Frodo were fast asleep. Soon we would be leaving this land forever and going home. I wondered if Valinor still looked the same or whether much had changed.

 

“Those two have slept for most of the journey,” Elrond said fondly. “I wish I had their ability to sleep soundly while riding over cobbles.”

 

“We are here now,” Galadriel said, pulling her head back in the window. “Maybe they will wake when we stop.”

 

The sea breeze blew through the open window and above I could hear the screeching of the gulls. The carriage stopped and we disembarked. Bilbo was helped down to the ground by Elrond; he was old and weak but it was always his dream to see the land beyond the edges of the World.

 

Círdan stood near to the ship, waiting for us to board. My spirit felt weary, I had lived enough of this life and needed to feel the light of Valinor again.

 

“Welcome back, my friend,” Círdan said and smiled.

 

I gave Círdan my widest smile before wrapping my arms around him and hugging hard. We laughed loudly and danced around in circles, still keeping hold of one another. The joy in my heart knew no bounds and we laughed like joyful elflings.

 

I looked into Círdan’s face and smiled. “Let’s go home.”

 

He took my hand and led me onto the ship, and we said goodbye to Middle-earth forever.

 

The End.


End file.
